


taste of power on her tongue

by mysticfour



Category: Legend of the Seeker
Genre: F/M, non-con, power games
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-10-13
Updated: 2011-10-13
Packaged: 2017-10-24 14:04:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 546
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/264288
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mysticfour/pseuds/mysticfour
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>set during cara's rebreaking in late s2</p>
    </blockquote>





	taste of power on her tongue

**Author's Note:**

> set during cara's rebreaking in late s2

"Bastard," Cara hisses, and Rahl tightens his grip on her shackle-sore wrists. She'd not made it easy for him; he wears cuts from her nails on his skin. Wears bruises on his sides. But he wins with his strength and his weight, and he holds her naked body down, forces a crushing kiss to her perfect lips.

His hand travels down, gripping her breast before finding its target between her legs. He rubs and strokes like she's an instrument, a device, something that responds in a predictable way, and Cara hates that it works, that he's denying her the small pleasure of making him fuck her dry. She hates that her body greets his fingers with wetness, but she's tired, tired of struggling; muscles aren't meant to be tensed this long. Cara's a Mord'Sith, she's a full-grown woman, and the fact that she's so close to powerless twists its way into her mind, sinks its claws into her thoughts.

Darken is nearly gentle when he takes her, and it's insidious. Like the words dripping from his throat. "I'm just taking what's mine, Cara," he tells her placidly as he penetrates her sex: eyelids fluttering with the sudden pleasure. "Oh, I've missed this," he breathes out. "Just like old times." Suddenly she tries to go for his eye, but only manages to scratch bloody lines in his cheek. Rahl pushes his forearm into her throat, lifting an eyebrow. Cara chokes, lets her arms fall spread to her sides. "Better," he soothes, and lets her breathe.

Cara's going to use this. This image of his leering face over her, the feeling of his muscled weight on her. She's going to use this when she's in chains again, because anger is useful there. She's too tired to be angry now. "You're not my Lord Rahl," she says instead, risking a smirk as he fucks her. "Your brother is twice the man you are. Twice the leader. Twice--"

"You are my Mord'Sith," he corrects her. "You're a fool to think anything else matters, Cara."

"Twice the lover," Cara finishes softly, and embraces his back, nails carving deep lines. "When he was in me, at least I could feel him. The pleasure he gave me..."

And so control is subtly shifted: Rahl is furious, and drives himself harder. This is more what Cara is used to, anyway, and it's over sooner, which is all she cares about. She lays under him patiently until he spills inside her with a groan, mere seconds later, and breathes heavily over her like he's trying to think of something suitable to say.

"Done already?" Cara asks innocently. He strikes her, the back of his hand hard across her cheek, and it's another split in her lip, another bruise on her face. She sucks her lower lip into her mouth, tongue tasting blood. He stands, and dresses himself, and leaves. Cara lays on the cool floor for just a moment longer, glad for the few moments of respite, before two Mord'Sith come in and shackle her back up over the pit. Her training will continue tomorrow, she knows. And even though Darken Rahl's seed is dripping down the inside of her thigh, Cara still has the taste of power on her tongue, and she savors it.


End file.
